


What People Know

by Jantique



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Coming Out, DADT Repeal, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregor allows homosexuals to serve openly in the military. Ivan doesn’t think it will change his life. (Ha!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What People Know

**Author's Note:**

> I tried very hard not to use the words “gay” and “out” (in the gay sense). Barrayarans would not use 20th century American slang. Probably.

 

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“Reputation is what other people know about you. Honor is what you know about yourself.”

Lois McMaster Bujold,  _"A Civil Campaign"_

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Ivan was sated and sleepy after sex, and wanted nothing more than to snuggle down for a nice nap before he had to leave, and go back to his cold, lonely apartment. Unfortunately, his bedmate had other ideas.

 

“Ivan, we have to talk.”

 

“Mmmph.”

 

“Ivan!” That was the command  voice, accompanied by a slap on his naked ass.

 

“WHAT?! I’m awake! Byerly!”

 

By smirked. “I told you before we started—before _you_ started, really—that we needed to talk about something important.”

 

“Oh, yeah. But I thought, if you’re breaking up with me, I wanted to make love one last time.” Ivan tried not to sound pathetic. _Too_ pathetic. He couldn’t look By in the face.

 

“Oh, for—!” By sounded exasperated. “Ivan, you—look at me. Vorpatril! About face!”

 

Ivan instinctively responded.  By cupped Ivan’s face in his hands, lifting Ivan’s eyes to meet his own.

 

“Ivan, listen to me. I am _not_ breaking up with you. I am not _going_ to break up with you. And you are not breaking up with me. You’re stuck with me. Got it?”

 

Ivan gave a tremulous smile. “Sorry. I guess I overreacted. But you said we had to Talk, and, well….”

 

By smiled. “Silly boy.” He dropped a gentle kiss on Ivan’s forehead. “We do have to talk, but it’s about something good.”

 

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

 

“Because we have to consider our responses.”

 

Ivan tried not to anticipate. He really had no idea what By was talking about now.

 

“Come on, let’s clean up and get dressed. We’ll have a glass of wine and I’ll explain.”

 

Okay. Ivan could do that.

 

Ten minutes later, dressed and sipping a good white on the living room couch, Byerly continued.

 

“You know—all the world knows—that Gregor signed Executive Order 41420. It goes into effect next month.”

 

He was supposed to remember _numbers_?! “Um, which one was that? The gambling casinos?”

 

By groaned. “Homosexuals in the Service!”

 

Ivan scratched his neck. “Oh, yeah, right. So? You think there’s going to be a sudden surge in recruitments?”

 

“I was _thinking_ about people _in_ the Service not having to hide anymore.”

 

Ivan considered. “Well, no one I know is going to be suddenly open about it. Even if it’s not illegal, you still have to work with a lot of assholes, you know.”

 

By nodded somberly. “True enough. But sooner rather than later, someone is either going to be open voluntarily or exposed against his will. Either way, it would be good if there was an example, a model, to show that you can be homosexual and proud and a good soldier.”

 

Ivan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “I really hope you’re not talking about anyone in this room.”

 

“Ivan—”

 

“No, don’t you ‘Ivan’ me! I’m an officer, I’m a Vor, and—“ he played his trump card, “—I’m _in line for the succession_! I absolutely CANNOT be open!”

 

By looked at Ivan and said softly, “Ivan, don’t you see? It’s because of all those things that you need to be open. If you do it, it frees everyone else.”

 

“No! Gregor would kill me—never mind Gregor, _m’mother_!” A very real shudder shook him.

 

“So talk to Gregor. If it’s all right with him, there’s nothing your mother can say about it.”

 

Ivan stared in disbelief. “Oh, you think that, do you? _My_ mother, _your_ boss. Have you _met_ this woman?”

 

“Ivan, your mother is not stupid. Agreed? What makes you think she doesn’t already know, or at least suspect?”

 

At that, Ivan’s heart skipped a beat. “No! She doesn’t know, because she hasn’t said anything, and believe me, she would have plenty to say.” He put down his wineglass and hastily stood.

 

“Look, I can’t have this conversation tonight, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow. I can’t—I just—” But he was already halfway through the door, and didn’t really know what he wanted to say, anyway. He just needed to get away.

 

Behind him, By sat on the couch, cradling his glass in his hands. That went well—NOT. At least now Ivan was thinking about it. Maybe.

 

Ivan didn’t call By for three days. It was all right for By to talk, everyone _knew_ about him. And yes, Ivan knew that By suffered a certain amount of shit. But the only “example” By was setting was how to be a town clown. Ivan had _responsibilities_. He had his _reputation_ to consider. People expected things from him, a certain level of decorum (if not intelligence). Ivan had spent his life playing up his reputation and down his intelligence. (Well, except when his cousin Miles got him involved in things _beyond his control_.)

 

Still. He spent a certain amount of time with By. It was possible that someone—a gossipy someone—could connect the dots. Or see him leaving By’s apartment at oh-dark-thirty. He probably ought to warn Gregor. He sighed and set up an Appointment.

 

It was just as awkward—which was to say, _Ivan_ was just as awkward—as he expected it—he—would be. But Gregor looked at him with cool, grey eyes and said, “But Ivan, when I signed that Order, it was partly for you.”

 

Oh. Shit. “Um…you knew? About By and me?”

 

Gregor looked puzzled. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”

 

Meaning, everyone knew. Ivan cringed. Still, no one had _said_ anything….

 

“Sire, tell me the truth. Please. Does m’mother know?”

 

But Gregor only said diplomatically (and prudently), “We’ve never discussed it.”

 

So Gregor didn’t care. Well. One down, a planet to go.

 

 

Lady Alys was cool and collected as ever, wearing a grey silk gown with ivory lace. She had a tea service in front of her, as she waited to find out what folly her only son had committed this time, and how much money it would take to make things right.

 

Ivan squirmed in his seat and rubbed his neck. If only he could think of the right conversational opening.

 

“Ivan, stop fidgeting!” Alys sighed. “All right, what’s her name?”

 

“What’s whose name?”

 

“Your latest … indiscretion. I assume that what you’re here to confess to.”

 

“No! Um, well. It’s not an indiscretion, and,” Ivan took a deep breath, “his name is By. Vorrutyer.”

 

“Oh, what have you gotten involved in with Byerly? I didn’t think you were friends.” She took a sip of tea.

 

Ivan gulped his tea, burning his tongue, before continuing. “That’s the thing. I’m involved. With By.” He waved his hand in a circle, indicating togetherness.

 

His mother looked puzzled. Ivan could see that she didn’t _get it_. “Ma, we’re … we’re lovers. By and me.” The carpet pattern was _fascinating_ , but he forced his head up to meet her eyes.

 

Alys gazed into the distance for a long moment, assimilating this information. Then she jerked her head, looked at her son, and exclaimed, “But Ivan! _All those women_!”

 

Ivan grinned despite himself. “Yeah, I know. When I think of all the years I wasted….”

 

“Hmm.” Alys looked thoughtful. Her ready-for-anything persona was once more in place. “Ivan, is this a _fling_? Are you—how serious is this?”

 

“No. Yes. Very. I love him. By is the first person I’ve ever really been in love with, not just flirting with. And he says I’m stuck with him. So….”

 

Alys sat very still for a long moment, as the ghosts of grandchildren she’d never see danced one last time before her eyes and vanished in the air. She sighed, then sat up impossibly straighter. She was Alys Vorpatril, and she could cope with anything.

 

“Does anyone else—wait, does Gregor know?”

 

“Oh, yeah, Gregor knew before I told him. He says it’s not a secret. So I guess people know, or guess, but no one’s said anything to me.”

 

Another “Hmm”. Alys was obviously upset that she hadn’t known. Moving on, she said, “Ivan, dear, you’re not going to do anything _outrageous_ , are you?”

 

Ivan was immediately indignant. “No, of course not! Well, uh, I might be open—you know, not hide it. But I’m not going to do anything _outrageous_! He added helpfully, “I leave that stuff to By.”

 

Alys said quellingly, “I shall have to Talk to Byerly.” Ivan made a mental note to be a sympathetic boyfriend, with whiskey and a warm bath waiting at home after _that_ talk. But, better By than him!

 

In the end, Ivan’s biggest problem was how to be open with By. To let people know they were together while still retaining a sliver of a decent reputation. He absolutely refused to march in any protests or parades. That wasn’t open for negotiation.

 

“You could dance with me, at the next ball.”

“No.”

“Not even a mirror dance?”

“ _Especially_ not a mirror dance!”

 

“Kiss me at midnight at the Winterfair ball?”

“In _public_? No—um, I’ll think about it.”

But anyway, Winterfair was four months away.

 

In the end, Ivan moved into By’s apartment. (“Because your apartment is a _bachelor pad_ , Ivan, and we’re neither of us _bachelors_ any more, right?” Plus, By’s refrigerator generally had food in it, which his never did.) No one commented on his change of address. Of course, he didn’t exactly invite anyone over, either. Ivan was torn between Vor Reputation and Setting An Example, the latter of which always left him feeling naked and exposed. A very bad position for a soldier to be in. And was being open about being By’s boyfriend Smart or Dumb, and in either case, which did he want to be perceived as?

 

It hurt his head to think about it too much, so he didn’t. Until about one month after the original conversation, when he and By were at Lady Vorsomething’s overcrowded cocktail party, and a few half-drunk junior officers decided to tease By. For a change.

 

“Hey, Vorrutyer, are you gonna enlist? I hear they’re recruiting your kind now!”

 

Another chimed in, unoriginally, “Yeah, more women for the rest of us!”

 

The third, who looked to be an ugly drunk, spat, “Are you kidding? No one’s gonna serve with a pansy-ass, cock-sucking little coward—“

 

Ivan, who had been scanning the room for drinks, stepped close to By and slung an arm around his shoulders. His smile showed all his teeth, like a hungry tiger.

 

“Naw,” he drawled, “Vorrutyer doesn’t have to enlist. He’s already got a _boyfriend_ in the Service.” He accidentally kicked Ugly Drunk in the groin. His two friends abruptly remembered a need to be elsewhere. By protested, “Ivan, I can take care of myself, you know.”

 

“Oh, I know. But it was so much fun. Don’t be mad. Next time, it’s your turn, okay?”

 

By nodded. “Fair enough. My turn.” He kicked the retreating Ugly in the rear. Ivan grinned. He was so proud of By!

 

It was the talk of the party (which desperately needed livening up), and the news promptly went viral. Ivan didn’t have to worry about telling anyone else. When they found out Ivan had moved in with By, the Koudelka girls threw them a party. With plants and window treatments. _Window treatments_! The men (husbands and home-owners) all retreated to the study and drank heavily.

 

So Ivan was still an officer, still a Vor in good standing, and—to his everlasting relief—did _not_ succeed to the Imperium. But the important thing was, he was also still together with By, and they lived happily ever after. At least until the next time Miles Vorkosigan showed up. But that’s another story.

 

 

THE END

 

 


End file.
